Tribulation
by TheActualFoxy
Summary: As an enthusiastic and avid murderer, Bonnie's horrendous nature swiftly unveils when an unsuspecting stranger enters the pizzeria. WARNING: Gore


Inside a dingy building in the once lively side of town, there's an abandoned pizzeria. Passing by the dark establishment, nothing seems inconspicuous. It's just another business that ultimately failed in gathering enough customers. Nothing's left inside except for unwanted items.

At a closer glance, though, a pair of glowing eyes are discreetly audible through the dirty glass. These luminescent orbs simply watch the people on the sidewalk go on about their day. _Do you remember going to that pizzeria? Yes, of course I do! It's a shame that it happened, right?_ They would whisper about the tragedy and shake their heads. The eyes in the pizzeria don't blink as he watches this, even though he knows that they're talking about him and what happened months ago. He doesn't feel an ounce of remorse at the reminder of the "tragic" event. People talk and they don't know half of what's going on.

It's a Monday in early August when Bonnie rubs his eyes and rips his tired gaze away from the window. The sun is setting and the humans are leaving the streets in favor of relaxing in their safe homes. Another uninteresting day at the pizzeria gone. Using the knife beside him, he engraves another indent into the wall. Lines upon lines mar this wall, days of nothingness.

Bonnie tightens his grip on his knife when he hears someone approaching. When Freddy enters the parts and repair room, his eyes flick over the mutilated wall with disinterest. "How many days?"

"One hundred and eighty seven," Bonnie immediately answers, not turning to acknowledge Freddy. He knows that Freddy disapproves everything about him, from the scarred wall to his way of killing. It's the same with the others. Foxy tends to growl whenever they pass and Chica leaves him alone in favor of hanging out with Freddy. 'This is who I am, whether you like it or not.'

"Hm. It feels like forever since this place was closed down." Before leaving, Freddy tosses over his shoulder, "Don't get your hopes up for another guard. They've stopped hiring them."

 _I've noticed,_ Bonnie thinks grimly. When Freddy leaves, the bunny irritably growls and whirls around, throwing the knife at the wall close to where Freddy was. Its sharp blade cuts through the air and rips into the wall, sleek and deadly. It has been with Bonnie all throughout his life at the pizzeria. Its main use is for cutting off the heads of the night guards and ripping into the soft insides of their body.

Remembering the previous kills and their struggles and cries makes an unintentional shiver run though Bonnie. What he wants is to feel blood soak his fingers, to feel the life of a person to slip away because of him. Limping over and ripping the knife out of the wall, he runs his fingers over the sharp blade. His reflection stares back at him from the gleaming metal, crazed and bloodthirsty. He can recall the times when he examined his reflection and looked absolutely normal. Those were the days when he let Freddy kill the night guards and covered his ears to block out the night guard's screams.

It's not clear in his head when he started to desire mutilating the night guard. All he remembers is how one night he watched Freddy kill and was interested in how it worked. The man had begged for his life, and watching the ordeal, Bonnie felt frustrated. Why beg for something that's not going to happen? Then Freddy snapped his neck and it was over.

Except that Bonnie didn't want it to be over. The next time there was a night guard, Bonnie had asked to kill him. His mindset changed about the cruelties of murder when he was in control of the man's death. It made him feel powerful. He presumes that this is where it all started, how a harmless event spiraled into a hopeless addiction that he's incapable of fixing. Murdering is a part of him now, just like his endoskeleton and his tainted soul.

* * *

Another incision. Bonnie slashes the knife against the wall, frustration threatening to explode his mind. He doesn't know how long he can keep up this state of existence, waiting for something to appear but becoming disappointed when nothing does.

"Bonnie?"

Glancing away from the wall, Bonnie spots Chica nervously lingering by the doorway. Her childish eyes examine his frazzled state uneasily. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" Bonnie clutches the knife and Chica takes a tentative step back, her eyes widening in fear. "Look at me! Do I _look_ okay to you?"

"Well, no…" Chica says quietly, her eyes flitting to the ground.

"Don't ever ask me that again, unless you have a human in your hands." As Chica quickly leaves, Bonnie angrily rips at his ears. "That's all I goddamn want!" he roars, his voice echoing through the old building. "A human!" With his knife clutched in his hand, he limps heavily out of the room and thunders into the dining hall. Passing the show stage, he sees Chica hiding in her pile of blankets and Foxy snoozing while sitting at a table, a chess board in front of him. He must've been playing by himself. _How pathetic._

Traveling down another hallway that leads to the night guard's office, Bonnie's damaged right leg twitches. "Stupid leg," Bonnie snarls, wanting to rip it off. His leg was perfectly fine until it happened. After the chaos had settled down, the manager had stormed into the show stage and took an enraged swing at Bonnie, cursing and screaming that it was all his fault. Repeatedly he lashed out, using his fists and a baton, until Bonnie's right leg was damaged. The metal was bended and many of the wires ripped apart. It was unbearable pain that Bonnie couldn't contain, much to his embarrassment.

The manager had watched a tear roll down Bonnie's face. With a look of disgust, all he had said was, "You monster, you deserve to die."

But that was a while ago. Stopping in front of a door that the night guards use for sneaking into the place without being noticed, Bonnie yelps as his gnarled leg gives out. Crumpling to the floor, he bangs his head against the hard solid. A spider suddenly crawls across the dirty surface, right in font of Bonnie's nose. Without thinking, his finger crushes the spider, smearing it on the filthy surface.

Grabbing the wall and heaving himself back up, Bonnie glances out the window at the Pizzeria's parking lot and his heart freezes. At first he can't believe what he's seeing. A crazed smile crosses his face, his fingers twitching. Right in the dark parking lot is a lone figure, about twenty feet away. The figure is all alone and what appears to be staring at the pizzeria. _Must be drunk,_ Bonnie silently laughs. The drunk ones are always amusing to kill. Unusually, they always appeared at dawn and always lingered quite a ways from the pizzeria.

Not that it's unnatural for people to get that close, but the thrill is that it's not happening in the daylight. Darkness can make anything happen, can fool people into believing things they never would've in the light. Dreams can turn into strange realities at midnight, when the moon is up and the winds are chilly. Everything gets crazier in the darkness.

"Come on," Bonnie whispers, pressing against the window with joy. The only thing that the figure would be able to see is two lights from Bonnie's eyes. "Come to _me_." He lets out a snarl when the figure turns and heads away from the pizzeria, hands in his pockets. There's no way Bonnie will watch him disappear. This his chance at getting blood, and he won't let it slip away.

Being around small kids for all his life, he's an expert at mimicking their annoying babbles. "Help me!" Bonnie screams in a high pitched voice, sounding exactly like a little kid.

The figure immediately turns around. Again, Bonnie makes a child's wail and grins widely when the figure starts jogging towards him. Expectantly, he fiddles with his knife and tries not to move, even though he's quaking with excitement on the inside.

"Is anyone here?" The figure's outside the door, his voice nervous. Bonnie can see what he looks like due to the flickering light. The man has a patch of black hair on his head and an anxious expression on his face. A kind looking man, no doubt. If only he knew what was coming.

With a click, the man opens the door and Bonnie immediately pounces. Smashing the man's head into the wall and covering his mouth, Bonnie laughs as he screams into his hand and flails. Bonnie can feel liquid on his paw from the man's head and has an urge to taste it.

"Finally," Bonnie whispers, tracing his finger on the back of the man's split head. How terrible it would've been if his brain was crushed, always Bonnie wouldn't have any fun.

The man struggles and inhales sharply when Bonnie wrings his neck with a large paw. The other holds his beloved knife. Thrilled, he watches the man nervously eye the knife.

"What's your name?" Bonnie asks, almost like they were having a business interview.

The man doesn't look at him. Fat tears run down his face as he pulls at Bonnie's hand around his neck, struggling to breathe.

Bonnie takes a second to fish around the man's pockets and smiles when he finds a wallet. "What do we have here?" Pulling out the cards and dollar bills, he stops and examines a card that contains the man's picture. Male, 5'10, age 23. "Mike Schmidt, huh?"

"Shut up," Mike squeaks out, face turning red from the lack of air

Releasing his hand from around his neck, Bonnie harshly pinches Mike's lower lip until blood start pouring down and Mike's begging him to stop. "Talk to me with disrespect again and I'll rip your lips off."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Mike covers his bloody lip with his hand. His hands shake as he watches the bunny in front of him. Of course he knows its Bonnie; the news articles never gave the horrifying story a break. _Bonnie kills the child at 12:34, frontal lobe missing. Child dies immediately. No one knows why it happened or how it was even possible._

"Why did you come here?"

"Because…" Mike begins sobbing, blood and tears mixing. "I wanted to see if this place really was responsible for his death. I wanted to find some answers."

"And why would his death concern you?" Bonnie flicks the knife in the air, catching it easily, and the man winces.

"He was my neighbor," Mike cries out. "He was only three! God, why did you take him? He had so much time left. He was such a nice boy, someone to be proud of."

"How would I know?" Bonnie hisses out in Mike's ear, "I don't care who I kill. Child, adult, it doesn't matter. Generally, I don't kill kids but that was a special case." Bonnie breathes deeply, remembering that conversation. "He was surrounded by his friends. They weren't paying any attention to us. At first he started picking at my guitar. Then, in front of me, acting all happy and excited, he asked me something that shocked me. I'm not shocked by much, but the way he explained it made me feel sorry for him. Quick and easy, end of story."

"What?" Mike weakly asks.

Huffing, Bonnie impatiently presses the knife into Mike's soft neck. "He asked me to kill him that day. He said that he wanted to die because he was scared. I'm not positive of what he was afraid of, but he said it with such honesty that I couldn't help but believe him."

"You're lying," Mike spits out, his bloody lip trembling. "He was a happy boy with loving parents."

"He seemed happy. In his heart he was the complete opposite." Bonnie flicks his ears, wanting to cut through the neck.

"Liar!"

"The thing is," Bonnie pushes the knife into Mike's neck, "Appearances can fool you." Cutting through Mike's skin just enough to cause pain but not immediate death, Bonnie joyously watches Mike fall onto the floor in his own puddle of blood. It's everywhere, like a lake. Clutching his throat, screams press their way down the hallway.

"Just like people see me and assume I'm nice and kind because of my exterior looks." Kneeling down beside him, Bonnie sits on the floor and watches carefully as the emotions of pain pass Mike's face. "I'm going to kill you, Mike. Are you okay with that?"

Mike's eyes roll and his face twists. Before he can say a word, Bonnie shoves his back onto the floor and cuts open his stomach. His lips tremble. "Why... do you kill innocent people?"

Before pulling out his organs, Bonnie stares at the man's blank face for some time, thinking about what he said. Not any emotion passes through him, not one ounce of joy. It's disappointing to not feel any content from this kill. At least it was thrilling to inflict the pain and watch his reactions.

Deeming him dead, Bonnie takes each organ out, one by one, studying them then crushing them in his fist. His bones are easy to crack and the heart is messy. While crushing the organs, Bonnie marvels at every piece of his insides. It's interesting how each body part has a different job from another. How if one thing went wrong, everything could end up in total failure. Examining the empty chest of Mike, Bonnie swallows and can taste blood. It's sour.

He hears Freddy before he sees him.

"God, what a mess," Freddy comments in disgust, examining the bloodstained floor. "You're cleaning that all up."

"Fine," Bonnie mutters. The craving for blood has left his body, leaving a familiar empty space.

Freddy stares at the cut open body. "Did you find satisfaction killing this man? Did it meet your expectations? Did it feel good causing him pain before he died?"

Bonnie growls at him to be quiet, but Freddy's already down the hallway.

Cleaning up the blood, Bonnie can't admit aloud that this death didn't cause him much joy. For the first time, he feels oddly sick about what he's done. Deep down, he knows that he'll continue doing this, even if this was one causality where he felt different. It'll be the same cycle when he's thirsting for blood. He'll soon forget about Mike and forget about killing the boy. Just like he had forgotten about his own death many years ago, along with the memories of being a human.

Due to cleaning up the blood, the floor is sparkly clean. This time, when faced with his reflection, Bonnie doesn't recognize the disoriented person staring back.


End file.
